Chapter Text
Grantaire clicked the tv off. They had already watched two old episodes of Queer Eye and eaten most of the Indian food they’d had delivered.
Enjolras was curled up at the other end of the couch, nibbling on his last piece of naan.
“Okay, cariño, are we ready to talk?”
Enjolras turned to face him better. “I believe so. What all do you want to know?”
“Well first of all, how was the scene? How are you feeling?”
“It was good. The way you started was just right for how I was feeling. It was like there was no pressure for me to go down right away and I think that actually helped me get there faster. My ass stings a little, but in the good way.”
“Okay, um, was there anything you didn’t like?” Grantaire didn’t know why he always asked this question. He knew Enjolras would tell him if he had done something that didn’t work. He just needed the reassurance that he had done well, that he hadn’t fucked everything up.
Enjolras considered the question for a moment. “No. It was the right amount of pain and the right length of a scene for tonight. You working on other things was nice because it took some of the pressure off. Sometimes I feel like I have to look like the perfect sub during scenes- like I have to perform for you, which is fun sometimes, but it wasn’t what I wanted tonight. And it was great. I wasn’t… on display. But it also wasn’t as though you were ignoring me. You kept touching me and talking to me. I knew you were always at least aware that I was still there.”
“I was more than just aware of you. You should see that sketch. There’s hardly anything there, I was so focused on you, like I didn’t want to take my eyes off of you.” He looked down at his hands and paused for a moment before asking, “Was it okay that I left the room for a minute? I forgot to grab something to drink before we started, and I didn’t want to leave you there or make you move right after, but I felt horrible leaving you alone in sub space.”
“It was alright, Grantaire. You weren’t gone long, and you didn’t just leave without talking to me. I didn’t panic because I knew you would be right back and all I had to do was stay put and count. And then you were back again just like you promised. I trust you. You’ve never hurt me in a way that I didn’t want to be hurt, and I trust that you’ll do anything in your power to make sure that stays true. Now, that being said, I would prefer you not make a habit of leaving the room during scenes because the connection is such an important part of it, but one time isn’t a big deal, especially when it was less than thirty seconds. Honestly, Grantaire, the scene was perfect for what I needed. One little lapse in preparation isn’t going to ruin a whole evening of thoughtfulness.”
“But I renegotiated mid-scene.”
“Technically, all of my clothes did stay on. One article just got, shall we say, temporarily displaced? Really, Grantaire, everything was good. You knew that I would want a bit closer contact for that bit, and you were right. Plus giving a spanking over jean pockets sounds like it could be a bit miserable. I don’t blame you for not wanting that.”
“You’re sure everything was okay?” Grantaire hated that he needed this much reassurance. It was pathetic. Tonight was supposed to be about taking care of Enjolras, and now here he was, asking Enjolras to baby him, to convince him that he wasn’t a terrible boyfriend and a terrible dom. He trusted Enjolras to tell him what he needed. He trusted him to be honest. But he still felt like he had done something wrong- like he had done everything wrong. Holy shit, he had done everything wrong. He never should have asked. Now Enjolras was having to lie to him to spare his feelings. Why did he even put up with Grantaire? Why did anyone put up with Grantaire? Even Grantaire could hardly stand Grantaire. He was ugly and careless and rude and the world’s worst dominant and the world’s most pathetic boyfriend and now Enjolras was talking and Grantaire wasn’t even listening because he was stupid and thoughtless and it was only a matter of time before Enjolras left him because sooner or later he would realize that Grantaire was fat and irresponsible and incapable and reckless and vulgar and still! not! listening!
“… manage to be so gentle with me even when you’re hurting me and honestly it can be almost overwhelming how much love you express when… Grantaire?”
Fuck. “Yeah?”
“You aren’t listening to me.” It wasn’t accusatory. Just matter of fact. “Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“Highly unlikely. First of all, in my experience, you are almost always thinking about at least three different things at the same time. And more importantly, I know that face, Grantaire. You don’t have to tell me, but I’d appreciate if you did.”
Grantaire put his face in his hands. He knew he couldn’t lie to Enjolras, so it would probably be easiest to just tell him. “I don’t deserve you. I feel like I fucked everything up and I’m a terrible dom and you deserve someone so much better than me. You deserve someone more like you: someone smart and well-spoken and handsome and… I’ll never be good enough for you. I’ll always be dragging you down.”
“Grantaire, am I stupid?”
Grantaire looked back up at Enjolras, completely befuddled. “Are you-? No. Of course not.”
“Do I accept things that I feel are not up to standard?”
“No, but- “
“Then please trust me to know what I want. I want you. I love you, Grantaire. You’re kind and creative and intelligent. You’re funny and thoughtful and personable and so many things that I could never be. I don’t want to be with someone like me. I want to be with someone who is all of the things that I’m not- someone who can help round me out- someone like you. You are everything I was looking for and more.”
That should be enough for him. That should be more than enough. Enjolras was honest to a fault and if he said he loved Grantaire, then it must be true. So why did Grantaire feel like he needed to prove him wrong?
“But I’m ugly.”
Enjolras started to respond but Grantaire kept going. “I’m fat and I’m ugly and my stomach is disgusting, and my thighs are huge, and I’m covered in stretch marks and my face is…” he couldn’t come up with a word and just gestured at his own face instead, expecting his looks to make his point for him. “And you could have someone so much better.”
Enjolras studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I disagreed. I can tell you you’re wrong, that you don’t understand. I can tell you that I love the way you look: your soft, cuddly belly; your big, strong legs; your amazing smile. I could tell you everything I love about your body and face and it wouldn’t make a difference because you would never believe me.”
He was right, of course, Grantaire wouldn’t believe that anyone could love the way he looked.
“But I don’t actually care about all that,” Enjolras continued. “I mean, I love your body, but even if I didn’t, I would still love you. I don’t care about your looks. I care about your mind. I care about your heart. You are so much more than your body, Grantaire. You are everything that you’ve accomplished, everything that you’ve been through, everyone that you’ve loved. That’s who you are. That’s who I fell in love with. You are a person, not a body. I can’t stand when people judge me just for my body instead of who I actually am, and it breaks my heart that you do yourself the same disservice. I know you have a hard time believing that your body is worthy of love. Obviously, I struggle with the same thing, however different our reasons are. Do you think you can try to learn to love yourself as a person? Or at least recognize that you are worthy of being loved and that all of the people who love you have a million reasons for it?”
Grantaire nodded. “I can try. I can keep trying, it’s just…”
Enjolras moved across the couch to him and took his hand. “I know, mon coeur. It’s not easy. But we’re in this together. I’m here to support you, just like you support me, and I will make sure I never go a day without telling you how much I love you, and hopefully some day you will love yourself too.”
“I can’t promise you that I ever will. But I promise that I believe you when you say that you love me.”
“Well for now, that’s enough.”